Generation One: Chapter Seven

It must have been work wearing me down. I thought that I of all people could manage, but the exhausted face in the mirror staring back at me proved otherwise. What was happening to me? My mouth was drier than my mother’s sense of humour and my eyes were more sunk than any shipwreck. Michael was at work and I was at home having taken a few days off for a rest. To try and get my energy back. To sleep. It had been a few days already; I was exactly the same – worse in fact!

After slowly dragging myself through to the bed I threw up a small pool of potato and leek soup, carrots and raisins. Why is there always raisins in vomit? I looked down upon my, eh… my gift to the world and all of a sudden there were two. My head was spinning and I realised that all around me objects were doubling. I could see two beds, two wardrobes, two windows – two everything! My whole world was crumbling, it was as if a tornado had scooped me up into its wrath. I tripped over a floor lamp and fell fast into the brick-hard wall. The lamp smashed to the ground with a crash while another sound followed which was so unnerving, so unimaginable, so revolting that it could only have been the sound of human flesh meeting with a cold stone floor.

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